


The One With the Family Christmas

by WellDoneBeca



Series: Mrs Captain [32]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers Family, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Christmas Time, Domestic Avengers, Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Gen, Grandparent Tony Stark, Minor Wanda Maximoff/Vision, Parent Avengers, Parent Natasha Romanov, Parent Sam Wilson, Parent Steve Rogers, Parent Tony Stark, Parent Vision, Parent Wanda Maximoff, Parent-Child Relationship, Stark Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 05:45:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17094977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WellDoneBeca/pseuds/WellDoneBeca
Summary: It’s Christmas and you just want it to be a happy day and a great source of memories for the kids. With a family as big as yours, it’s obvious that things won’t be 100% perfect.It’s a Grey-Summers-Maximoff-Romanoff-Smith-Stark-Rogers’ Christmas!(Square Filled: Sketching)





	The One With the Family Christmas

You stretched on the bed, feeling the covers around your body and the other side of the bed still warm and smelling good from Steve.    


“Steve?” you muttered, opening your eyes just to find your husband – butt naked, nonetheless - with pencil and paper in hand. “What are you doing?”   


“Sketching,” he opened a smile. “Good morning.”   


“Good morning,” you rest your head on the pillow once more, smiling at how he just continued running his fingers on the paper. “Is that a drawing of me?”   


He just broke a tiny smile.    


“Yes.”   


You closed your eyes once again, trying to choose between getting back to sleep or not until a thought crossed your mind.    


“Where are the kids?” you raised your head.    


“With Jean and Scott. Or, as SJ and Sarah decided, Poppy Scott and Nana Jean,” he opened a smile.    


You raised your eyebrows in surprise.    


“They’ve decided the name, finally?”   


The kids – and with that, you meant actually all of the kids, not only yours – had opened a short voting season over how they would call Jean and Scott from now on, you thought they wouldn’t have the names picked before New Years.    


“Yes. Papa and Poppy had the same votes but everyone decided over Poppy because William and Thomas already call Vision Papa and it would be a big mess.”   


You nodded, not moving from the comfort of your mattress and pillows.    


“Steve...” you let out a short whine. “Come back to bed. The kids are out, we can be lazy.”   


“You know we can’t,” he reminded you. Still, however, walking to you and pulling your sheets out of your body.    


You smiled when his lips met your back, giggling as your husband kissed all the way down your spine and the top of your butt.    


“And yet there you are,” you pointed, yelping when he bit your buttock. “Steve!”   


“Come on,” he put himself on his feet. “Up.”   


You rolled your eyes, watching as he walked out of the room and teleporting right to his side in time to give his ass a small swat, making your husband jump.    


“Hey!” he exclaimed before you teleported into the shower and rested your back on the heated titles. “Don’t tease me.”   


You chuckled.    


“Not teasing,” you started the shower. “You coming in?”   


* * *

“Can you hold this, please?” Natasha showed the unwrapped paper to you, and you added it to the orbit of things around you.    


Anyone would think that as Avengers, you would all be more organised and do Christmas tasks at least weeks ahead of time but that was a big lie. With all the work and missions, you were just now wrapping the Christmas gifts for the family with the part of your group who wasn’t distracting the kids.    


“You’ll be the one writing down the kids' names, right?” Sam questioned, turning to his wife after wrapping a bow on a present you’d gotten Dmitri a couple of weeks earlier.    


With so many small families composing the overall family, the wrapping paper was colour coded and had their own place under the pine tree and the red wrapping paper was reserved for Santa Claus’ gifts only.    


“Obviously,” she turned to him. “I’m the only one capable of copying Santa’s handwriting. You wouldn’t want the kids to know he isn’t real and that Clint is the one who sneaks in at night to put the gifts under the tree.”   


Your whole group froze when the childish yelp crossed the living room.    


“Santa isn’t real?!”   


Your heads turned with wide eyes, and SJ was standing there with his blue eyes wide and his favourite toy in hand.    


“Yes!” Sam exclaimed. “I mean, no! I mean, yes!” he tried to answer. “I don’t know what to say.”   


Your son just stared at everyone, confused. He ran away before anyone could even say anything else.    


“Honey,” you called, letting everything around you fall down, but Steve touched your shoulder.    


“I’ll go talk to him,” he affirmed. “Just… Keep doing what you’re doing.”   


Honestly, you always told yourself you wouldn’t fall into that trap. Santa wasn’t real – your own father had never fed you that lie while growing up, always choosing being honest over anything else – and while you’d never directly created anything over the Santa Claus myth, you just went along with anything the kids learnt and passed to each other, too afraid of hurting their feelings or destroyed any magic. Now… There you were.   


Your husband left, and you turned to your friend with your hands on your waist.    


“And now?” you turned to Wanda. “What are we gonna do?”   


She just stared back at you and you dropped your things to go after your husband and middle child.    


“Friday?” you called.    


“They are in your apartment’s living room, ma’am.”   


“Thank you.”   


You teleported into the room, finding both the boys sitting on the couch with Steve talking to his son in a low voice.    


“Hey,” you approached them slowly. “Honey… What you heard upstairs…”   


But your young boy didn’t let you finish.    


“It’s okay, mum. Dad already explained everything to me.”   


You stopped on your tracks, raising your eyebrows at him.    


“Oh, he did?” you eyed your husband.    


Your boy nodded.    


“Santa is a thing to make little kids happy during Christmas and a part of the holiday’s tradition to celebrate a man who was always making good deed during wintertime,” he exclaimed, very eloquently. “He is part of growing up and now I know that everything I thought Santa did was actually done by you and dad or my uncles and aunts and Grandpa Tony and Pepper, that means I’m big enough to understand that I don’t need a present to be a good boy.”   


You stared at your son, completely shocked. Was that the same kid you’d given birth to? When did become so much like an adult and less of a baby?   


“And I also know that every kid has to come up to it alone, which means I won’t tell anyone that I know the truth and let them enjoy the magic,” he ended it.    


Behind him, Steve was smiling proudly.    


“Can I go now?” he questioned, turning to his father. “Nana Jean made cookies.”   


“Go,” your husband nodded. “Just don’t eat more than two and make sure Sarah only eats one. Dinner isn’t far and you’ll want to get to bed early to open the presents in the morning.”   


SJ ran to the elevator before you could even see him with a quick “Bye, mum,”, and you turned to Steve.    


“What was that?” you walked to him, sitting on his lap.    


“He’s a smart one,” Steve shrugged, resting his hand on your back. “We all know that.”   


You nodded, and he rested his head on his shoulder.    


“He’s growing up,” he rested his opposite hand on your thigh. “They all are.”   


You took a long breath.    


“I know.”   


The next morning, you were awoken by several steps and kids giggles early in the morning, getting up just as Steve did the same. The monitor to Sarah’s room showed her bed was now empty, and you opened the door just to see your girl running after SJ still hugging her blue bunny.    


You followed them silently, quickly seeing all of the kids reuniting around the tree and picking up their gifts as the other adults joined you. Natasha still had bed head and your father was already holding a cup of steaming coffee. What surprised you, however, was how Sebastian was just by his side.    


“You’re gonna check your presents, sweetie?” you questioned, offering him a smile as your son ran a hand through his Y/H/C locks.    


“Uh…” he bit his lip. “Actually, just one. I helped grandpa put it together but he still wants to surprise me.”   


You smiled at your dad but your expression changed upon seeing the smug look on his face.    


“Am I missing something?”   


They exchanged looks and your father just shrugged.    


“Don’t worry honey. You won’t deal with anything I haven’t dealt with.”   


You frowned, but your mind was taken from the subject when your oldest boy called you.    


“Is it okay if Elijah sleeps here today?” he questioned.    


You looked at him, a bit confused.    


“Honey, you don’t have to ask me that. Elijah is family, he can come over whenever he wants as long as his parents allow him.”   


The childish call made you miss the different looks on your boys' faces as they look in Sarah’s direction just as your daughter opened her brand new play engineering kit and showed the box to Dima.    


They had all opened every single gift when your father left his coffee aside and stepped forward.    


“Alright, presents opened and all adults here… Time to show the coolest gift any person could get.”   


You glanced at Steve with the corner of your eyes just as he crossed his arms. What the hell was your father doing?   


“Sebastian, son,” he pulled his phone from his pocket, pressing some buttons. “Merry Christmas.”   


Everyone looked around, expecting something to happen, but you only understood what your father meant when you directed your gaze to the balcony. It was a gold and blue iron…   


Your face twisted in shock, anger and disbelief.    


Oh, he didn’t.    


“You’re giving my son an Iron Man Suit?!”


End file.
